This was a scary week for Mike and me as Luckie had anesthesia when having her teeth cleaned.  She was not eating properly due to a sore mouth.  No one wants a sore mouth, so Dr. Steve, who had been putting this off thinking that Luckie’s teeth might outlive her, scheduled the cleaning. Luckie is the last of three dogs we got over 15 years ago.

I understood the risks…they’ve been explained to me many times but nothing has ever went wrong. All the things that “might” happen have never happened. Until this week.

Following the procedure, Luckie came home very confused. Her leg and her shoulder quivered badly. She would not eat. Her tail dragged the ground. Her eyes were dull. She was anxious…both barking and whining.

I texted Dr. Steve, and he asked a few questions, but indicated none of this was unusual in old dogs during the first 48 hours after anesthesia. Another day passed with marginal improvement. On Thursday, she finally started to show signs of being herself (eating catfood). She later told me that I’d feel the same way if I went to the dentist and realized after the procedure that while my teeth got cleaned, my butt also got shaved.

So…she felt well on Thursday, and I decided that we needed to go somewhere so she and I went to the Bank of America in Bristol to cash two checks. I drove into the drive thru window, and as soon as I pressed the “SEND” on the vacuum tube, Luckie pooped in the back seat. At this juncture, it seemed like the teller went from normal speed to slow motion. It took forever, and at the end of the transaction, she graciously spoke and said “does your doggy want a treat?” I weakly replied sure…all the while thinking…“my doggy already has a treat and she just left it in the back seat, and it’s stinkin’s so bad I’m about to puke.” I didn’t say any of that. We finished the transaction; I pulled to a grassy area which turned out to be directly in the line of the view of the teller. I got Luckie out and then with a paper towel, I picked the poop up from the truck’s rear seat and walked over to a spot with Luckie, bent over and laid the poop down. All of this was carefully correographed for the teller’s benefit so she would think I was a responsible dog owner cleaning her pet’s waste up. What I was really doing was leaving Luckie’s poop behind in the grass.   Oh the tangled web we weave when we practice to deceive. Finally after my performance, Luckie and I went back to the truck where she refused to get in the back even though there was not one trace of the offending poop. We drove home with her looking straight ahead not acknowledging her part in the poop.

When we did get home, I recalled that Luckie needed her post-surgery medication called Rimadyl. I went to the cabinet, got the Rimadyl and got myself a vitamin at the same time. I went to the sink, tossed the vitamin into my mouth and drank some water. I then reached to give Luckie her Rimydyl –but there was only the vitamin in my hand.

It’s Friday, and in spite of taking Luckie’s medication, I had no side effects, and she is doing great, too.

In other news, I dropped a clothing size this week.  That is a milestone!!   Yay me!!